Like an angel sighing
by Noondarkly
Summary: How far is Kurt ready to go to prove his love for Finn?
1. Chapter 1

I know I am totally disregarding the purpose and intent of GLEE to give us a carefree, uplifting and fun TV show for a change, with as little drama as possible. I just happen to be a sucker for drama and if you hate that, don't read on. You are also advised to leave if you hate slash-fics, or if you are under 18. I am rating this M for a reason and it is your responsibility if you want to read on. (However, don't expect trash or porn because that is not my cup of tea...)

This is my first GLEE-fic and probably the last. The rest of the show doesn't really do anything else to me other than make me grin (grateful for that!!!!!!), but Kurt's character... well. What can I say!

It's a short introductory chapter, more like an Epilogue. If you like it, please review it. Muchas gracias! (And "Köszönöm" which is Thanks in Hungarian, my native tongue.)

_**Like an angel sighing**_

There it was, the moment he couldn't postpone any longer. One way or another, his fate was sealed. He would either profess his love for another man to the world (or that part which was too blind to have been ignoring this obvious fact) or see him suffer and hate himself for the rest of... well, possibly his life. The end of high school was a strong probability, and Kurt read in several of the lifestyle magazines his dad was generous to pay subscriptions for that the emotional impact of high school infatuations was the strongest in a young adult's life.

Because he was gay, that impact would follow him for a good while longer.

Being witness to a random constellation of Friday night frolicking at the local bar and a handful of drunken men, possibly ex-cons strutting by looking for harmful fun to whip up their adrenaline levels was not Kurt's ideal way of passing the time. He wished he had stayed home, watched the game with his dad and showed false interest to make him happy, despite the boredom and impatience that was his general mood more and more these days as he grew older and the world started to seem even less sophisticated than before. Even that looked attractive now.

He would pick a dull evening with a father who despite his best intentions had no fucking clue as to who his own son was over a frightening encounter with several strangers who were displaying signs of wanting to bully someone just for the heck of it, anytime. In fact, his usual cool had given way to fear a long time ago. Puck had had too much to drink and had been taken home by a very pregnant girlfriend in a cab. The girls had left hours ago, Mercedes having been the last one to leave: she was the most unfailing girl friend he had ever had. Magnanimous and strong, opting for friendship when she should have smacked him till he got blue in the face when he told her about his preferences. Not that he could have helped liking whom he liked. But deep down in his heart he knew to this day that the reason Mercedes had been led on was that, in a way, he had been leading her on to save his cowardly ass.

A raspy grunt brought him back to the present day and he realized there was trouble on the horizon. Whatever those guys wanted, it was not friendship.

The bar was lit from within, its door and smoky windows emitting a deep, vibrating rhythm sprinkled with the cackling of drunken people. He considered fleeing the parking lot in a mad attempt to reach the bar entrance but the moment he glanced at the door, a hairy arm lifted as an obstacle impossible to overcome. He was puny compared to those gorillas. Even the man he loved, tall as he was, seemed diminutive in the circle of fully grown males.

'I am getting ready to roll here', one of them said and as he pulled Finn closer to him, he grabbed his crotch that bulged generously inside his jeans.

'No!'

The scream made everyone including Finn stare in shock at the minuscule boy who was trying to worm himself out of the gigantic grip of hands and arms. Under the street lamp's light his face shone with tears of disgust and fear. His white shirt lost two buttons in the struggle and creamy, smooth skin showed underneath. They watched him squirm for a minute before they returned their attention to what was happening before the interruption.

'Okay, where were we...'

'No, please!!!'

The tattooed guy let Finn's arm loose and the boy wobbled under the pressure, but only until he was caught in a net of arms and grinning faces. Kurt watched in desperation as his beloved tried to set himself free to no avail. He would never succeed. They might never escape these guys, it occurred to him just when his focus fell on the approaching face of a terrifying man old enough to be his dad and evil-looking enough to play the protagonist of a horror movie. The guy stopped two inches from him and leaned in, stooping so his eyes would become level with his. Kurt squeezed his lips tight and made an extra effort not to throw up: the stench of alcohol, weed and rotting teeth filled his nostrils as the guy exhaled and continued to look at him. Kurt suddenly had a flash of insight: if he was strong enough, he could easily outstare the guy. In fact it was inevitable that the drunken man would fall flat on his face: the level of alcohol in his blood was rising visibly and he wasn't even drinking in that moment. Kurt stood up straight, trying to convey an aura of indestructibility as he arranged his tattered shirt and put on a defiant smile. From the corner of his eye he was trying to follow Finn's moves and maybe send a signal to him. But before he could really think of a plan, disaster happened.

'Well. We must fuck someone tonight or we'll all go starking mad and perhaps even kill a dude or two in there. No one really wants that now, do they?'

Kurt swallowed invisibly and felt his knees give in. He had never been as grateful for the strong hold of a sweaty hand on his arm as he was now. Dignity was the quintessential trait of a diva like him and, although he suspected what would follow, he wanted to stay cool and sane. He heard Finn breathe hard as he still tried to cut himself loose: his captives outnumbered him. Whether he wanted it or not, Kurt was in charge. The choice hung heavy above his head, the moment was time itself frozen stiff ready to explode and demolish all trapped in it. The consequences of his decision were but blurry soldiers in the mist of a bloody battle walking toward each other, enemies transformed into comrades in the face of total meaninglessness. He couldn't hear their screams, he only saw their mimics and those mimics spoke of destruction and destruction only, regardless of his resolve.

(tbc)


	2. Chapter 2

_there are faces, there are smiles, so many teeth, too many arms and legs and eyes and flashing buttons all around me I'm a-watching, I'm a-breathing, I'm a-pushing, I'm a wishing that these walls would not be talking quite so loudly I have lost it once before I've pulled myself up from the floor and I am looking for a reason to stay standing but sometimes it's just too much or not enough or something else it's so much bigger than my head, it's too demanding_

The lyrics marched on inside his head, over and over with no end. He stood facing himself in the mirror that showed circles under his eyes and a defiant line that seemed to pull his two unkempt eyebrows closer together in a strange archway. The hair, previously combed into a tame style now stood on edge, cut short and left to follow its own will. He hadn't shaved for almost a week and a lazy stubble was beginning to show above his skin. The loose shirt above a black tee-shirt reminded him of a certain person way too much, so he threw the shirt off and donned his thin torso with a grey sweatshirt. Jeans loose and torn, no belt, sneakers. He was ready.

He expected attention that, he hoped, would dim by the end of the second day. People did follow him with eyes agog and smirks that hurt him endlessly in their ignorance. He soldiered on along the corridor until he reached his locker where he was finally able to breathe. Blinking to stop the tears from coming, he shoved his bag inside and took his literature book out. Maybe not the easiest class to start with, but nothing could be as hard as facing his Glee-mates later on that day. He nodded to a few familiar faces on the way to class but he only got laughter and raised eyebrows in return. He knew their limited brain activity couldn't help but get them stuck in that hateful spot of judgement and contempt so he forgave them swiftly, he had no business with them, anyway. He fully intended to fight his way through school until the summer break and then-

Well, he had no plans whatsoever. Two weeks at home, taking pills for made up headaches and drinking liquids to fight off his made up influenza should have been sufficient time to contemplate the aftermath of a day he wanted so much to forget. But truth be told, forgetting was not an option in this case. He knew it, his mute lips knew it, his breaking heart knew it. His dad was worried sick for his son but his knowledge only stretched as far as Kurt's weak physical condition: the shame and pain felt for his son having been violently abused by some strangers would have killed him on the spot. Kurt kept his mouth shut and only divulged information that strictly pertained to daily necessities. He forced himself to smile at times, ask his father about work, or tell him a joke he knew he had told before. The man was grateful anyway, so happy to see his son talk again that he played along. The double game they were playing exhausted them both but it was especially starting to destroy the boy's inner strength: where the father had to fight off uncertainties, the son's enemy was what had in reality happened, memories of something ugly that defiled his whole existence.

And the worst was, Finn also knew.

Before Kurt could have braced himself to face his better half, he was already there. Sitting in the corner spot where he always sat, ready to doze off any time the teacher started talking about poetry. But even from the furthest end of the classroom the tension floated forward, reaching Kurt with a painful blow. He literally staggered and averted his gaze before he sat down in the centre of the room. He swallowed and busied himself with whatever. There was no time to process, there was no time to draw up a plan. His brain needed to focus on his studies if he wanted to avoid failing but he felt Finn's intense stare drilling into his back. He had cut every means of communication with the outside world during his two weeks of self-imposed exile, he hadn't even called Mercedes back, let alone Finn. He had planned on explaining himself before his friends once he returned to school, in as few words as possible. To their enquiries regarding his outward change he would shrug and crack a joke or two. There was nothing to it, everyone needs a do-over from time to time and everyone knew Kurt Hummell was the queen of those. Well. Queen may not be the right word any longer, he thought as a cynical smile stretched his lips apart.

Class was over relatively fast, luckily; his usual interest in studies came to his aid and the novel they were discussing was interesting, if not fascinating. He acted nonchalantly and was his usual self until the ring slashed his composure in two and then he started to shake inwardly for no immediate reason.

'Hi'.

There it was, the reason. The reason for probably everything in his life, good and bad alike.

'Hi Finn', he looked at the tall boy who towered over him anxiously.

'Did your dad tell you I called... several times?' Finn asked.

'No, he must have forgotten', Kurt smiled politely, then changed style when he noticed Finn's eyes turn sombre. 'Thank you, though, it was really nice of you to call. You were probably worried. I'm fine', he added, clutching his books to his chest. It kept his arms and hands from trembling.

Finn nodded, looked away, then looked back. Kurt saw how Finn desperately wanted to believe him but that he wasn't convinced which in turn made him miserable. Kurt knew Finn was blaming himself but he also knew that he had enough on his plate as it was.

'How... how are you, Finn? It must have been difficult for you, too... have you told anybody?'

He didn't want to stir up the mess lying at the bottom of the pond but he knew that once the truth got out, he would have to leave school. He could not take the humiliation. Neither could, he suspected, the boy standing in front of him, the personification of virility. In Kurt's eyes, anyway.

'No I haven't', Finn was quick to reassure him. Then, he added more quietly. 'I won't tell anyone until you don't... although I think you should seek professional help...'

'I read Psychology Today regularly, I think I'm equipped to deal with it', Kurt smiled, an empty smile, one that fooled Finn who exhaled hard.

'But... what if you... you got... uhm... you got something... some illness from... from those...?'

'I got tested, no worries', Kurt smiled again. 'I'm really fine, Finn. Thank you for your concern. See you in Glee-club later...?'

'Sure', Finn furrowed his brows and stood motionless as Kurt left the room. He looked after the boy who had changed so much since... since Finn last saw him. Finn was no expert in human behaviour (had he been, he would have noticed how Rachel had been smitten with him from day one) but even his blunt radars detected trouble. There was something he couldn't define about the boy who-

Finn pounded out of class, forgetting what came next. There was just too much happening, too much stuff he couldn't explain and too much stuff that kinda scared him. Keeping secrets was almost a given for him, reticent sports guy that he was, but this secret was eating him alive. Images that he was trying so hard to abolish from his brain were coming back to haunt him. He remembered sounds most of all, and they were horrible... He lifted his gaze from the floor to distract himself with something, anything. He still saw what he least wanted to see, wherever he looked.

'Yo, Finn!'

Startled, a grumpy Finn was ready to turn into the bully standing in front of him. He remembered how many times Puck had mocked Kurt and the knowledge hurt him stronger than ever.

'Quinn, Rach and I are doing a mash-up for Glee-club, you wanna join? We need a fourth vocal', Puck said.

'Yeah, why not', Finn eased up and swallowed. 'What songs have you chosen?'

'Dunno, the girls are cooking, I'm just there to help', Puck shrugged. 'What's with this face?'

'What face?' Finn asked, suspicious.

'You look like someone had died or something... no one did, right?' Puck pulled a face in case he hit a nail on the head.

'Someone will, shortly, if you don't leave me alone', Finn grumbled and pushed Puck aside. 'See you later', he turned halfway back, almost apologizing.

Two more classes till Glee-club. He had a desire to see Kurt and-

And nothing. Just see him. Finn straightened up in his strut in an attempt to prove he had nothing to hide. Except the most horrible secret he had ever had to keep. Remembering, he swallowed his anger. He had played it over and over in his head, in vain trying to persuade himself there was nothing he could have done. He was being held down, there were just too many of them. He could have protested louder. But the garbage disposal was large and it cast a shadow that proved adequate for veiling everything. Besides, the bar was loud, no one would have heard them.

Nevertheless, it weighed over him. Dark and looming like a threat that will be realized, no matter what. The knowledge of what happened, the knowledge that he was the reason why it happened, and the knowledge of what should have happened. Had he been the strong man that he always boasted he was. It was a heavy load to carry and he couldn't even talk it out with anyone. He couldn't, not without talking of Kurt who specifically asked him not to do it. He couldn't betray him, not after-

Minutes crawled and hours seem to last forever but somehow, two o'clock arrived and Finn was ready to go let out some steam. Singing was therapeutic, even better than football; somehow, emotions always got straightened up in Glee-club even if feather were ruffled first. People laughed at the stupidities of others but in the end, everyone was stupid, even Mr Shue with his silly teenage crush on Miss Emma. Glee-club was merry and liberating, being part of it was like being part of something bigger than oneself. Finn sat down in the back row and listened as Rachel blabbered on about her superiority. He noticed Kurt wasn't there and that was not good. Not good at all. He needed to see the boy and perhaps get a chance to talk to him afterwards.

There was a lot Finn needed to talk to Kurt about.

(tbc)


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks everyone for reading this and taking the time to comment! I'd like to emphasize again that this is fanfiction and *my* take of things, probably unrealistic but is "Glee" realistic, now? LOL. Also, don't expect accuracy of detail, and don't expect perfection, either. And don't expect it to be light, although I do like the playfulness of these characters once in a while. As for predictability in a story, it may happen in this one, too; if I disappoint, sorry, I can't please everyone. As long as I please myself, I'm a happy camper, and so far, so good!

(PS: The episode where Kurt does actually dress into guy-clothes and sing Mellencamp just about sent me to the moon. I had written about it one week earlier! Don't you love when a story or parts fo it do come true? LOL.)

'So what's with this new look anyway? Your dad finally gave you a good spanking?'

'I think fags actually love that... he should have dressed as Ziggy Stardust in the least', chuckled a corpulent boy whom Kurt has only seen a couple of times before. He didn't care to try figuring out who it was; he was getting more and more resigned to beat it as soon as opportunity raised her pretty head. The brief encounter with Finn earlier that day upset all his resolve to stay composed. There was no composure with Finn around, it was mentally and physically impossible. It used to be hard to do it _before_, but now...

'I like the new Kurt', Brit came smiling, passed the boy who stared back at her with an impassable face, and softly, fleetingly stroked his shoulder.

The two jerks started laughing even harder.

'Wait, I know. He's burning both ends of the candle now. Whatever comes first, eh, boy-girl?'

'You may wanna teach me how to draw the attention of that chick though', hissed one of them, the taller one, the one Kurt did know from the garbage disposal incident. He had not forgotten _that_ humiliation... he had remembered the face of his enemies well. 'She refuses to go out with me and I'll be damned if I know why. She's rode all the other guys in my class'.

'Dude, you smell like a horse-stable, that's why', came the response and Kurt turned away in disgust. It was true. He did smell.

Not that he cared about smells or colours or fashion any more. He just wanted to blend in and attract as little attention upon himself as possible. As soon as the initial shock faded, of course. He walked toward the exit bravely, his head held high. The sneakers were comfortable and his body felt strangely relaxed in those abominable jeans and that horrific sweater. His skin that was accustomed to mostly satin and silk became alert under the rougher swishing touch of a woolen sweater and a plaid shirt. He walked and his body tasted the new sensations. It was not unpleasant.

Until the moment his instincts stopped him on his tracks before his eyes could fixate upon something and his brain could register that it was Finn, standing by the exit casually chatting with Rachel and Mr Shue. Thank God there was company with him so he would probably not notice if he, Kurt, sneaked out-

'Kurt, why did you miss Glee-club today?'

Mr Shue's voice was genuinely concerned beyond the facade of simple curiosity. Kurt loved the older man for that: he was so easy to read. And so easy to play. No wonder Sue loved to play pranks on him.

'I'm sorry, Mr Shue, I'm terribly behind with homework for calculus and physics and I spent some time in the library catching up', Kurt smiled. This smile was easier than the one he had to give before; Kurt was present but only as audience.

'That's fine, no problem... just please let me know next time so I don't worry, 'k?'

'I promise. And I'm sorry', Kurt smiled again, nodded at Rachel who in reply flashed one of her plastic smiles that looked more like a grin on a china doll and wanted to leave the building.

'Do you have a minute?' Finn asked, his voice amazingly nonchalant.

'Who, me?' Kurt looked back at the tall boy and acted surprised.

'Okay guys, I'm gonna go, stay safe now and meet you all tomorrow', Shue waved and disappeared just like that, leaving a slightly flustered Rachel behind with the two boys. Maybe she was having another one of her crushes on Mr Shue, Kurt pondered. One could never know with Rachel: if it wasn't existential drama, then it was amorous issues.

'Finn, have you thought about the songs we showed you?' Rachel turned to Finn as if to refute Kurt, who merely looked away. 'Do you think you'll be comfortable singing Barry White?'

'I can pull it off if I must', Finn shrugged.

'No one can pull off Barry White', Kurt scoffed. 'Have you guys lost your minds? Finn's voice is dramatic and powerful but compared to Barry White's deep romantic croon he sounds like a cracked engine, if you will pardon my wording, Finn', he added with a typical Kurt-gesture of the hand, then turned serious.

'I believe you have no say in this since you've been absent for weeks and you also missed today's singing session under the pretext of studying in the library', Rachel retorted. 'I have faith in Finn's vocal abilities and my dads always taught me that if people believe in someone he or she will fulfil every expectation raised', she finished triumphantly.

'If that was true then I would be the next Cary Grant', Kurt replied. 'Sadly, you cannot build Rome upon belief.'

Rachel's eyes sent sparks of rage into Kurt's direction. She hated being refuted and she hated when people ruined her glamorous visions of fame. No wonder she picked Finn to be her springboard: he had the charisma required for a star. Kurt let her send an avalanche of nastiness his way, his thoughts fastened into a tight ball of anxiety. Standing next to him was the boy whose presence had always reduced him to a pulp of desire, despite his reasoning. That boy wanted to talk to him about something and Kurt had a good hunch about what that thing was.

He just wasn't ready to talk about it. Not yet. Probably not in this lifetime.

'We'll see how rehearsals go, okay?' Finn was appeasing the big-nosed fury called Rachel. 'Just please don't make me go so deep, you know that's not my forte'.

'If you do what I advised and sing your lines thirty times in a row and then drink some honey-infused warm lemonade your throat should be able to do wonders in as brief a time as one day', she beamed at Finn and then swiftly walked away.

'Honey's not a bad idea, I must say', Finn murmured, a pang of jealousy gripping him as his focus returned on the present moment.

'Okay, I'll stuff an entire jar of honey in my face when I get home but let's first sit down somewhere and... talk?', Finn said the words in a rush, ending his plea in a question, almost a hope. He was adorable. Simply adorable.

'I promised my dad I'd help him clean the garage', Kurt said, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. His sweater was in his hand; it was way too hot and he would have been sweating to begin with. The proximity of his dream-lover was starting to make him feel like molten lava.

'I can help', Finn offered right away. 'I'm good with cars, at least I think so. My own dad was not around much to teach me any of that stuff but I think it's in my genes'.

Kurt listened to Finn speak about his father and he felt a kinship between them stronger than ever before. Finn was fixated upon the image of his father just like he was; the only difference was that for Finn, that image would never be smeared by the ugliness of reality while he, Kurt, would continue dreaming about a father who could never exist, despite him being alive. Reminiscence and daydream, a lovely couple, he thought, bitterness spoiling the beauty of Finn's presence.

'I... I think I should actually study instead', he looked away, instinctively knowing that Finn was his own father's ideal son, the son he, the gay offspring could never become. He felt jealousy and even a little hatred. It was all healthy and he rejoiced in having those feelings for Finn; they were a welcome change from the repulsive memories that followed him day and night and the monotonous emotions that filled his whole being. He was tired of feeling sick and abused, a victim. It was his choice, he liked to believe, but deep down in his heart he knew that he had had no choice, none at all. He was a victim just like Finn, except that Finn took it simply, almost graciously, while he, Kurt hid behind the mask of generosity, using a vile incident to prove something that may not even be true.

'You need to take things slowly, Kurt', Finn told him as they started to walk to the parking lot, side by side.

That little display of concern and those few minutes their walk lasted made Kurt's heart flutter.

'You know, I won't feel better if you keep reminding me of what happened', he said, a lot more violently than he planned to do.

Finn looked at Kurt sideways before he continued walking.

'You can't forget what happened until you face what really happened', was his reply, to which Kurt gasped inwardly. Finn was deeper than usually. He was almost _profound_. Kurt made no mistake: he knew Finn, he knew that Finn would always be what they call a simple man, something similar to his own dad (the similarity offered itself without an effort, it was so obvious that Kurt felt envious again), he saw Finn's flaws and he loved him nonetheless. But now Finn touched upon something Kurt had subconsciously known for some time. Running away from the problem would not make that problem disappear and Kurt knew it.

It was just next to unearthly to try and think straight when Finn was with him and nothing, not changing into guy-clothes or acting distant or years of psychological help would change that.

'What really happened, Kurt?'

Finn was standing between him and his car and Kurt almost bumped into him, he was so distracted by his thoughts. He composed himself quickly and took a step back, for safety. For self-preservation.

'I believe you were a witness to what happened', he replied, his lips quivering despite his effort to stay calm.

Finn hung his head, his shoes apart, his books against his thigh as one hand held them together. A large, beautiful and strong hand. Kurt lost the train of his thoughts for a moment, watching those fingers and that wrist, covered in soft, auburn hair. Before he could stop himself he pictured that hand on his face, then on his chest, then on his buttocks.

It was inevitable, his downfall. It would eventually happen. He could not hide his feelings for too much longer; not from Finn, because Finn already knew. But from the outside world, that conservative narrow-minded cruel world that seemed to surround him.

'What I saw was... it was...'

Finn was looking for words and Kurt looked up into his face.

'Disgusting? Vile? A nightmare? Hot?'

He threw words at Finn with a forced smile, eager to take off the edge of their conversation. He wasn't ready to go that deep yet.

'Hot? Dude, I know you're gay but are you also into twisted shit or what?' Finn looked back at Kurt, for a moment forgetting the seriousness of the situation.

Kurt smiled: it worked.

'No, being gay and an over-literate fashion-freak is enough for this school', he said. 'Anyways... I need to go. It was nice talking to you-'

'Kurt. You can't just go. We haven't... talked', Finn frowned, in shock, obviously desperate to do something, or just say something right.

'No amount of talking about it will change things, or change the outcome', Kurt said, serious once again, getting his carkeys out of his jeans pocket.

'I know but...'

Finn was at a loss. His plan was shamelessly ruined and Finn almost took pity on him.

'We'll talk some other time, okay? Go home and practice your Barry White baritone', he flashed a smile at Finn who only stared until Kurt got into his car.

(tbc)


End file.
